


Imagining a Smile

by FixerRefutation



Series: Ouma Kokichi's Theory of 'Happiness.' [11]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: And give Kork a try please, Brotherly - Freeform, Car Accidents, Cars, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, fake sister, more like SIBLING LOVE YE, not much incest, real sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 10:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16195832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation
Summary: Korekiyo Shinguji. He’s never really been trusted, nor known as a ‘good person’, but there are times where even he is liable to show emotions...especially when he notices something about Kokichi that he’s never realized before.





	Imagining a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Giving Kork a try for the sake of the series!
> 
> And yup, an offical addition to the series! Whoot!

Korekiyo Shinguji has never smiled before.

 

Correction: he’s never smiled in front of others. A quirk of the lips here and there, perhaps a few minuscule creases along the edges of his mask. He’d only ever really smile in front of Sister, and even then, she couldn’t see his grin beneath the cloth of his mask.

 “Brother,” she’d insisted over and over again at one point. “Why do you always bother to hide your lovely face?” She’d beckon him over, reaching for his face with long, slender fingers not unlike his own.

 Sister was a sweet individual. Dear to him as a brother and so much more. Always so gentle, so very sickly and emotional.

She held the sides of his porcelain face, brushing his hair with her fingers, her other hand reaching for his mask.

 

She hesitates.

 

He grabs her escaping hand. “It’s alright,” he says, comforts, reassures. “You will not hurt me.”  She turns her head, black strands settling on her shoulders. “We-we shouldn’t be doing this. Father will be marrying again anyway, and my mother-“

 

“Our mother.” he corrects, somewhat reluctant.

 

“- _our_ mother will be moving away with me.” Her thin, pale shoulders seem to shake only slightly, and she turns even more so he can’t see her face.

 

He strokes through her hair much like she did his, bringing her frail frame into a slight hug. “I still can’t believe it,” she’s quiet, exceedingly so. He buries his face in her sterile scented hair. “Hmm?”

 

“You, them, _this…”_

 

“What’s the matter? We aren’t related by blood, anyhow. We’re simply family by name-well, and now, we don’t have to worry about _that_ , won’t we..?”

 

Their resemblance was uncanny, terribly so, but that was simply due to Korekiyo cutting his hair and his sister being naturally pale. Miyadera however, had a light, scattered spray of freckles here and there, long, silky black hair to which she confessed should be cut to her shoulders instead, and sported crimson lipstick she’d received as a present from Korekiyo.

 

“..mmm..” she mumbled, hugging him tighter before letting go. “Yeah, I guess..”

 

“But brother,” she pulled herself up, looking up at him with a curious vigor that he knew would be her ‘outside world’ questions. “Don’t you have friends, too?” He raised a delicate eyebrow, relaxing into the chair he’d been on. “..a few,” he admitted, relaxing a hand on the sheets. Might as well exaggerate. “I have met a world-famous adventurer on a quest to find his sisters, crossed an island completely isolated from humanity, and discovered a new tomb within Egypt..”

 

-

 

“ _Brother?”_

 

That..wasn’t Miyadera.

 

_“Brother, are you alright?”_

 

She sounded too mature.

 

_“My dear Korekiyo.”_

 

...emotionless.

 

Then he snaps back to his senses, and realizes that Sister isn’t talking anymore, staying quiet.

 

 _“_ Helll-ooo-!”

 

Ah. That’s why. That annoying voice…

 

Why..why is he on the ground..? As if to answer his unspoken question, Ouma grins and explains. “Gonta and I found you on a bench, staring at nothing! Soo, _obviously_ , I told Gonta you’d fallen asleep standing up, and that you should sleep on the comfy, comfy ground!”

He feels his expression darkening before he know it, and a part of him marvels at how easy it was for Ouma to rile him up. 

“You _what.”_ Ouma peace-signs and sits on the ground, patting the grass next to him as if inviting Korekiyo to sit.

 

Korekiyo doesn’t sit.

 

“..sit.”

 

“..No-“ a grumble before Ouma stands up as well and _tackles_ Korekiyo. They land on the ground with a _thump_ , and for a moment, Korekiyo swore he could count all of Ouma’s ribs, easily felt through the thin material of the leader’s clothing.

Ouma nimbly moves off of Korekiyo, brushing off his white clothes. He pouts childishly at the green stains that taint his normally white clothing. “Seeee? Now you’ve gotta pay for my clothes! This was my most treasured possession, ya know!”

Korekiyo can’t help but think of the rows of bone that likely stand out out Ouma’s chest should he ever take off the intensively modified gakuran. He takes a mental note.

-

 

 _Miyadera looks sick. She always has been so, but this time, it’s visible. All her insistences that she was okay and that things were fine dropped from Korekiyo’s mind in a loud_ thud _, and shrivels to the ground as he takes her hand and pulls her away from the swings she was sitting on. She’s pale and coughing up blood, verbally protesting, and Korekiyo has never been so worried before for her._

 

_-_

 

Ouma.. looks sick. He always…has, but often, it’s gone ignored. His expressions and his energetic nature served him well in deflecting worry, and it hits Korekiyo rather hard as his piles among piles consisting of analyzing Ouma crumble in favor of this new information.

 _So.. he doesn’t want others to view him as weak._ Page six, note twenty-one. It was one of his earliest reports on the ultimates he lived with, and the first point he was able to make for Ouma in a week. Usually, in a week, Korekiyo would have _at the very least_ a student’s favored foods, their quirks and personality, and the people they were close to.

 Besides the liar’s rather evident love of Panta, Korekiyo had little to nothing on him other than that. The rest of his pages were crossed out and scribbled over things that he had no use for.  
  
Ouma verbally protests when Korekiyo drags him to the dining hall, where Tojo usually was this time of day.

 

-

 

_Miyadera verbally protests when Korekiyo drags her back into the car. He seatbelts her in the front seat, purely to keep an eye on her, and moves to the driver’s seat. Her pale cheeks are stained with the most terrifying, harsh crimsons, retching into her hands, and she attempts to hide her face in her hair, looking intensely at the door as if she could just escape right now._

_  
_ _Korekiyo doesn’t focus on her, too busy calling the family for more funds and locating the nearest hospital._

 

-

 

Ouma can’t pull his arm out of Korekiyo’s unusually strong grip, and they march off to the dining hall. The most he can do is wiggle his fingers and fruitlessly kick at Korekiyo, spouting out as many jaunts and jeers as he could. “W-wow, y’know, you c-can’t rip out my organs in p-private, nishishi-! I sold them-m a looooong time ago-!”

Korekiyo _absolutely hates_ the feeling of Ouma’s bony wrist, wishing he could just let go and salvage his image. Even so, there’s still that inlain feeling that he generally used to classify as ‘brotherly.’ It’s...not unwelcome, nor is it unfamiliar.

Kokichi seems to wince at Korekiyo’s carefully managed nails that dig into his wrist. It’s no matter. There are much more important things to be taken care of at the moment.

 

-

 

_She slumps in the seat, tired of the useless attempts to leave, to evade the ever-present hospital. She may have been sickly, but even she knew when running away wasn’t possible._

 

_-_

 

Kokichi finally goes quiet, seeming to be tired of his fruitless attempts at escaping Korekiyo’s unrelenting grip. It seemed that though he was childish, he knew when escape was impossible.

 

-

 

_Korekiyo relaxes. The two of them were so close to the hospital now, mere moments away. Cars sped along the streets quickly, almost dangerously so. Just need to get in the hospital emergency room-_

 

_A click._

 

_A simple click._

 

_It causes him to whip his head back, golden-tinged eyes widening, pupils dilating._

 

 _-_  

Korekiyo relaxes. The two of them were so close to the dining hall now, mere seconds away. The distant _clanks_ of the exisals echo from outside. Just need to get to Tojo—

 

A slip.

 

Right through his hands.

 

-

 

_right through his hands._

_She’s slipping, door open wide, tumbling out._

_His hand- his hand-_

 

_-_

His hand-

-

 Her last look to him is one of a smile, as if she’s just realized freedom.

That smile

-

That smile-

-

 _It’s his sister’s last present_.

-

 

His hand grasps the leader’s odd thigh straps.

Ouma, who was about to hop out the window, is pulled back by an irate Korekiyo. “What in the years of our dear lord were you _thinking_? You could’ve been-“

 

 

Hey, wait.

 

Hadn’t he had this conversation before?

**Author's Note:**

> Eeeyyyyyy?
> 
> and YES I AM WORKING ON BOTH THE ALL THE LIT PEOPLE UPDATE AND THE MOOSTERMIND AND THE DESPAIR DISEASE WHAT DO YOU MEAN


End file.
